


Of Princesses and Promises

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Post - A Dance With Dragons, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: A secret Santa story for GumTree. Her prompt words were sweetling, arms and promise.





	Of Princesses and Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GumTree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GumTree/gifts).



> I'm so sorry this is a little late, due to not having time to properly format this for AO3 with family stuff going on, although I did make sure that GumTree received it at the weekend. 
> 
> Thank you to RoseHeart for all the encouragement and suggestions, although any and all mistakes are mine. These characters are not mine, I'm only borrowing them for fluffiness.
> 
> I hope everyone has had a good few days and all the best for the new year :)

The snow hadn't stopped falling in days. At another time it would have been soothing to watch it fall, flakes swirling and spiralling before his eyes, but the memories of a time before were still too fresh to ignore and his wife's delayed return worried him more than he dared to say.

She had been gone nearly a fortnight, off to parley with one of the last regional lords, determined to represent the interests of Tarth herself, despite there being members of the household who would have happily negotiated on their behalf. It used to make him smile, that even after surviving everything the Long Night had so far offered she was as stubborn as ever but there was only so much time he wanted to spend without her at his side. They'd been a team for years now after all. He could still feel her in his arms asking him to look after everything for a week or so, promising to return before the Winterfest celebrations.

It would be their first with Bryony. The tiny, helpless wildling child Brienne hadn't been able to leave behind after her mother had been killed in the fighting was now a two year old with very set opinions of her own. Although the Starks had promised to feed and clothe any orphan they found, the bond had already been tied by the time they battled their way back to what remained of Winterfell and Jaime couldn't lose another member of his family, whether they'd come in by blood or by choice. He just wished he had Brienne's magic touch when it came to interacting with their daughter.

"Daddy," Bryony tugged pointedly on his sleeve, having followed him into the cold despite many insistences that it would be better to stay inside. Her dark green eyes squinted in concentration as she tried to work out what he was looking at over the horizon. "Want Mama back."

"Me too, sweetling," he reached down to scoop her up, letting her pat his heavily bearded cheek as if she needed to double check the last days growth. "She'll be back soon. With lots of Winterfest gifts for us both."

"Pony?"

Jaime laughed, hoping the sound was one of joy and didn't betray the bitterness a child had no business in knowing. Though the long awaited dawn had arrived in recent months, details of peace settlements amongst the remaining lords and ladies were still being drawn up and horses were a commodity that remained in short supply despite Dothraki intervention. The talks had also meant that his and Brienne's graceful exit to Tarth had been delayed, leaving Jaime to only dream of warmer climes. Spring may have come but it was still freezing in the North, the changing winds causing him to forgo some of his own comfort and wrap his furs tighter around Bryony, the little girl staring sternly back at him like they both knew he was doing something wrong.

"Have you had any breakfast?" he asked carefully, wondering if Pia had found a moment to take Bryony down to the hall after he'd accepted her offer to watch his daughter earlier that morning. "If we go now, there might be some eggs left."

"Yes. Egg."

"Yes, you want one or yes, you've had one?"

Bryony nodded, wiping away the snowflakes that were starting to melt on her face, a sure signal they should be heading back to the crumbling castle soon. "Yes."

"Alright then," Jaime smiled, letting go of a frustrated breath that froze in the air. "Let's go and warm up, little one."

*******

The great hall of Winterfell was no more than half full, which wasn't unusual for that time of day, but Jaime still had trouble pushing through the well wishers and glory seekers to find an empty seat just far enough from the fire so Bryony wouldn't think to investigate. His good deeds during the dark, and Bran Stark's forgiveness, had gone a long way in erasing his previous notoriety though he and Brienne were still the subject of many whispers around the stronghold, men and women alike wanting to exchange a few words with someone who'd been there when the ice dragon fell. It seemed a waste to tell the story the way it had actually unfolded, their actions merely mutually protective and instinctive, Oathkeeper delivering a messy killing blow after all hope of surviving seemed to be lost. The only part the tales seemed to get right was that he and Brienne married the day after, waiting to declare their devotion to each other no longer an option.

She was so gentle undoing the buckles he couldn't reach, her kisses so sweet, her arms so strong that he couldn't remember ever having a better nights sleep, safe in the warmth where he was most definitely wanted. And when he did wake up later, Jaime couldn't believe how good it felt not to have to scurry away but, with almost all the time in the world, be allowed to show his wife the pleasure of a truly good morning.

In the safety of that room they talked of home, of love, of what could come after a war neither expected to survive, every whispered word tying dreams and promises together. They didn't find the time or inclination to discuss the likelihood of children, though it crossed his mind that they weren't being particularly careful in that regard, something about bringing another life into the darkest of days too selfish for them, for Brienne, to consider it a necessity. Despite his advancing age, and his father's insistences still ringing in his ears, Jaime wasn't in any rush to watch the woman he loved fight her next battle in the birthing bed. And if the former orphan they'd already adopted wasn't growing up to be an inquisitive, strong willed, clever little handful, he would suggest they took another couple of children back with them to Tarth, hopefully delaying the inevitable.

"She's gorgeous. She definitely has your eyes," the serving girl told him with a smile that bounced out of his notice as quickly as it found her lips, handing over a bowl of thick, sweetened porridge and a single, precious boiled egg with a child sized handful of blackened bread. Bryony beamed up at them both when the food appeared, taking it from the bench so that he wouldn't have to juggle and balance everything himself. Brienne had spent time with him before Hoat took his hand, having to learn how and when to help occasionally more out of frustration rather than her normal, overflowing kindness. Bryony, on the other hand, knew no different but had observed enough to realise when she could copy her mother's actions.

"Daddy, sit," she insisted, trying to stare him down when he didn't immediately move. "Hungry."

As he joined her at the table Jaime supposed, to an outside observer, that she looked more like a Lannister than any of the various bannermen or wildlings that were still milling around the place and he wasn't going to deny that spark of resemblance if it kept her safe. She had a smattering of Brienne's freckles, too, just across the bridge of her nose, if he looked closely enough.

"Is there anything you want to do today?" he started, swallowing spoonfuls of porridge he'd grown tired of months ago. "We could go and help decorate the Winterfest tree or Sam's puppies might want someone to play with. That'd be fun, right?"

Bryony glared in reply. "Want story."

"About before the winter?" he suggested, knowing what the answer would be even as the words formed in his mouth. Bryony only ever wanted to hear about how brave her mother was, how strong, how fierce when it came to dealing with the men and women, and bears, that had crossed her path while taking care of an equally brave and strong, albeit wounded, knight. The bestowing of Oathkeeper had become a firm favourite, as had the daring rescue of a northern queen, though he'd so far failed to hold back from romanticising either tale. There was only so much a child could understand and after all the dangers they'd faced Jaime had no qualms rewriting some history to focus on love and happy endings.

"You and Mama story."

"From the beginning?"

Bryony nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. Once upon a time there was a maid with eyes as blue as the sapphire seas that separated her from the rest of the knights that wanted to be like she was. Brave and honest and true," he smiled, thinking about how stubborn and innocent Brienne had been that first time they met. "She had a sword and armour, heavy, borrowed pieces that didn't quite fit, but no quest."

"Boo armour?" Bryony prompted as usual, taking a bite from the chunk of bread still in her hand.

"Not yet, sweetling. The maid was only gifted the blue armour after she saved the Kingslayer's life."

She considered that for a moment. "Mama loved him."

"He loved her, too," Jaime replied, jumping ahead. "But after returning to the capital, he had to find a way to get the maid out of the castle in case the wicked Queen found out about them."

"Bad lady."

"Yes," he laughed gently at the growl building in the little girl's throat. "The Kingslayer, a knight in his own right, had just been given a priceless sword by his father but with his battle scars he couldn't use it as he wanted. So, thinking that he would never see his honourable maid again, the knight asked a very clever man to make the most unique suit of armour so that he could provide her-"

"Kest! Kest!"

"With parting gifts and a quest that would take far away from the city," he smiled again as Bryony began to shuffle towards him, the remaining crumbs of her breakfast abandoned, looking like she was actually interested in what he was saying for the first time that day. Maybe he would have to pay Sam a visit and borrow a couple of tomes about Duncan the Tall or Aegon Targaryen for bedtime reading. "On a pale mare that was as beautiful and capable as she was, the maid bid goodbye to her knight with tears in her eyes, riding out to-"

"Daddy!"

Jaime didn't think he'd ever heard a more joyful sound than the one that marked a group of riders returning home and by the look on Bryony's face, neither had she. It was a rarity now, adopted by Winterfell after the wall fell, but as the hall erupted into organised chaos Jaime's heart jumped into his throat, remembering all the times the single signal had been their only source of hope in a life lived minute by minute, hour by hour. The memory was almost strong enough for him to feel Brienne's hand closing around his, squeezing out a silent promise that brotherly bridges could always be rebuilt.

It didn't take much effort to lift his daughter onto his shoulders, not having the words to explain how he didn't dare believe Brienne was actually waiting at the gates until he saw her standing there, feeling Bryony grab handfuls of his hair as he strode past the first group of rangers determined to check who was returning to the fold.

Jaime didn't even notice the snow had finally stopped falling for the woman who was staring down at him from the back of a raven steed, Brienne Lannister of Tarth, the Evenstar, Warden of the East, Queen of the Crowlands, Stormlands and The Reach, still had the power to take his breath away.

"Brienne," he purred, lowering their daughter and dropping into a playfully awkward half bow, waiting until her cheeks had turned a deeper colour than the one the cold had already granted before pulling his gaze away, quirking an eyebrow to add, "You've kept us all waiting, Your Grace."

"These things take time, Ser Jaime, as well you know," she stated as evenly as she could, dismounting in a smooth move that had her boots crunching ice in the blink of an eye. "Though I can't say the weather has been our greatest ally."

"When has it ever," Jaime muttered darkly, keeping one eye on the heart stopping vision that was his wife and the other on Bryony, the little girl now feeding Podrick's horse old strands of dried grass while the young knight watched over her like a protective big brother.

"I am sorry the talks kept me away for so long," Brienne replied, stepping into his opening arms and snuggling closer as he sighed in relief. "Next time, if there's a next time, you're both coming with me."

"Is that a promise or an order?" he teased, turning his head to drop a trail of kisses from her burning, freckled cheek to her chapped lips. "Just because there's now a crown on your head, wench, doesn't mean I'll always do what I'm told."

"They crowned you, too," she reminded him between increasingly hungry touches. "And those oaths we swore didn't say anything about either of us being especially obedient."

"Thank the Gods. You'd never let me kiss you in public like this if that was the case."

"I-I... _Jaime_."

"I thought about following you every morning I woke up alone," he murmured lovingly. "But can you imagine Bryony being happy travelling in a wheelhouse? We'd have had to find her a pony big enough to keep up and-"

"Your letter said everything was fine." Brienne shuffled back to frown down at him, her expression softening as she glanced across to meet their daughter's smile. "She hasn't given you much trouble, has she?"

"Not at all. And only every moment she's awake."

"Every moment?"

He nodded. "She's also been wanting you back for days and when you do arrive, she's more interested in spending time with a horse than her own mother."

"It's alright," she sighed, going to her knees in the snow when Bryony decided to skip joyously towards Brienne, hugging her tight for a few seconds before, as if satisfied her family was all in one place again, running back to Pod. "I'll be really wanted when she gets tired or scrapes a knee or needs a different story than the ones you tell."

"Or she realises you have Winterfest presents," Jaime added.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "But I don't need to be wanted all the time."

"I want you all the time."

"That's not-"

"It is," he interrupted earnestly. "I want your help when it comes to knowing what's best for our little girl. I want your hand in mine as we rebuild the kingdoms we've been deemed fit to rule. I want your love, always and forever."

She stared at him for what seemed an age, unblinking, as his heartfelt declaration sunk in. "I love you so much, Jaime. I want...I can't wait until I can share my home with you and we can start the rest of our lives together, watching our little girl grow up. She's going to make a terrible princess."

"She really is. But she might make an excellent lady commander."

"Let's not tell her about that option just yet."

"Agreed."

"I'd like to stay here for Winterfest, just so we all get to experience something good in the snow again, but after that I'm sure the Wardens of the East and West can easily charter a boat home."

"Home," he smiled. "I like the sound of that."

"And if Podrick doesn't mind do you...we could...maybe later...?" Brienne asked tentatively after a beat of silence passed between them, biting into the lip he'd just been sucking on. "Just you and me for a little while."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Would an hour in the Winterfell hot springs, the same ones we were supposed to try before duty called perhaps be to your liking?"

"That sounds...pleasant."

"Oh, it will be, my love," Jaime swore, loving the feel of Brienne's hand sliding into his. "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
